


The little Things

by Kare



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:12:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kare/pseuds/Kare
Summary: He did not need them.And yet, before he knew it, a part of him had become chained down, held in place by invisible gifts and tokens..





	The little Things

It’s the little things.

 

Yes, James lived on his own in Bucharest and he went out and bought himself food, some civilian clothing and the barest minimum of furnishing. But he was always conscious that it was dangerous to own more then could be comfortably carried inside of one backpack.

 

So he never indulged. He never invested in anything that would just needlessly clog up space.

 

He had not needed. Not per se.

 

He still didn’t…

 

It wasn’t about _needing_.

 

He had not needed Nat to step forward, pull a hair tie out of her mane and press it into his hand. He had not needed it. He had been comfortable - as close as he could be - hiding behind the curtain of his own frayed hairdo.

 

He still wasn’t sure if it had been meant as a order, a suggestion… what ever. His limbs had been to heavy, his stupor to deep, to do much of anything about it. He did not even remember just when he had slipped it over his remaining hand, letting it rest around his wrist.

 

And there it stayed. A day, two, through showers, meals, pitying glances and Steve’s half aborted communication attempts.

 

It had taken almost a week till Steve had appeared with that _thing_. I looked like someone had taken a piece of telephone cord and soldered the ends together.

 

It had come with Steve’s unique brand of stammering. “It’s supposed to be better. Like, it keeps your hair out of your face but it still feels like you are wearing your hair open… I mean… I… so I’ve been told… obviously… I mean… you don’t have to, okay?”

 

It had been a long time since Bucky had been able to make Steve stammer with nerves. And it was nerves. Bucky had been sure, even then.

 

The small nod would probably been imperceptible for everyone else - except for Steve.

 

So Steve had left it at that and retreated. And it had been the first thing. Useless, an indulgence, not even overly good at keeping his hair from spilling messily to all sides… but non the less his.

 

Nat might have found a reason to ask back for her hair tie. But a gift from Steve? That was a gift. He would not ask to get it back. And Bucky found himself stuck with the question if he should use it or wear it around his wrist as well or if he should simply discard it… unlikely, because a gift from Steve was still a gift from Steve - something he had thought to never receive again.

 

But he had not _needed_ it.

 

The sentimental value was higher then the monetary one.

 

And he was in no condition to grow sentimentally attached to things.

 

So it became a _thing_.

 

Something that was there and maybe used, but about which it was just for the better not to think overly much.

 

Another thing were the small… containers, which Pepper every so often placed on the window sill. Sometimes it was shower gel, sometimes body sorbet, once even sugar scrub, the names carefully noted down on the bottom of the containers in an unfamiliar handwriting. But those came always with fruity smells: strawberry, blueberry, mango, grapefruit… Bucky had not wanted to smell like a fruit stall. All the more since he knew that even something as simple as smell could give him away in front of an enemy… then again: why bother about things like that, if one is a prisoner anyway?

 

So he washed his hair in mint, soaped his body in long drinks and filled his nose with the scent of artificial mango till he was mostly sure that that one summer night in California was actually a real memory…

 

It was almost a month till Vision gave him a little brochure on Hygge, which was the most thoughtful and the most inappropriate gesture ever…

 

Bucky had not felt proud about going to pieces with most of the tower watching.

 

Steve had parted with his favorite zip hoodie that night.

 

It had been warm and smelling of Steve and felt almost a little like their apartment back in the 40s… and when Bucky had finally calmed and tried to give it back - reluctant but knowing that it was not his to keep - Steve had just assured him that spare clothes were so much easier to get these days and Bucky was welcome to keep… so this turned into another one of those things… better not pondered, better not parted with…

 

The blankets and pillows and the cream colors… that was all Sam.

 

And that discarded phone - with a broken screen but otherwise intact, most importantly with Wikipedia and YouTube access - had been another touch from Nat.

 

Bucky knew not to overstep the invisible boundaries placed all around him. Even when Clint started a self set quest to introduced Bucky to the 21st century via some rather questionable online videos. He really could have down without that cross between a cat and a toaster that was apparently farting a rainbow…

 

And yet, before he knew it, a part of him had become chained down, held in place by invisible gifts and tokens, which just maybe proved that someone cared… maybe even more then just one someone.

 

It was more then he expected.

 

It was most definitely more then he deserved…

 

But it meant definitely more then he was willing to admit.


End file.
